Chapter Seven

“Stop! I won’t do this with you tonight,” Paige hissed at Richard while attempting to snatch her arm from his grip. “Let me go. I’m catching an Uber home.”

Richard continued in stride, tugging her alongside him as he headed to a less populated outdoor space. “You think tonight will end that easily? I’ve given you a little over two months to gather your senses, just pledged millions of dollars to Andover, and paraded you around this high-profile function on my arm. Do you really think we’re done?” he gritted through his teeth.

He pushed a glass door open and shoved her into the evening air. There were murmurs and fragments of laughter in the distance, but not a person in sight. He had made sure to isolate them from anyone who could call his public image into question.

“I’m leaving.” Paige tried sidestepping him.

Richard smirked, blocking her. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

She recoiled, tossing her nose in the air, and then lunged for the door. A loud groan tore from her throat as she winced in pain from his fingers digging into her elbow. He yanked her back into his hold, manhandling her to a dark corner tucked out of sight. His six-foot frame towered over her until she slumped against the old brick facade.

“That’s more like it.” He stepped back, analyzing her for a second before putting an arm against the wall to cage her in. “Never again flirt so openly with a man in public when you are out with me.”

“I. Was. Not. Flirting! We were discussing a painting.”

“Do I look like a goddamned fool?” Richard grabbed her wrists and slammed them against the wall, causing her to drop her purse and making the jagged bricks scrape her skin as he leaned into her face. “Could you even breathe?”

Gifts to Andover were not worth this treatment. Paige glanced to the sky—anywhere instead of his cold calculating face. Once before, she had seen a semblance of this side of Richard, but somehow she overlooked this personality disorder, and he had hidden it well behind the arrogance of his money and clout.

A wet sheen stung her irises and her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she fought back angry tears. Richard looked off for a moment before removing his grip, then took a few steps back. She quickly reclaimed her purse from the ground, then hugged herself hard and began searching the perimeter for a way to escape her evening in Hell. No way could she stand beside a man who had inflicted physical harm upon her.

“Now, we are going back inside.” He popped his collar and adjusted his jacket sleeves. “I’m going to introduce you to a few friends who are interested in making contributions to Andover while you play the doting girlfriend who missed me the last few months.”

“But I didn’t miss you. And I’m not going back inside with you.”

“You will do as I say, Paige.”

“No, she won’t.”

Paige gulped. Her heart skipped one, maybe two beats before it banged with the force of a bass drum as a shadow drew closer. She didn’t have to see the face hidden in the black of night to know who had uttered those acid-filled words. When moonlight poured onto the dark field, revealing Brenden, she pressed a palm to her heart.

Brenden’s chiseled jaw was tight, right hand balled into a fist. His hand uncurled and relaxed against his leg before he met Richard with a glare that would freeze Satan. Brenden’s face softened, though, when he focused on Paige. He extended his arm, offering her his hand.

Protection and safety, things she had never known from a man who wasn’t her kin.

“Let’s go.” This time, Brenden’s deep timbre had a calming effect. “Would you like to go home?”

Paige nodded, and Richard muttered a curse. The rest of his words were lost because this was really happening. Brenden, her dark knight in shining armor—her wildest damn dream—had come to save her. The invisible threads of her body itched to tangle with his. How could she resist?

A rancor-laced plea forced her line of sight away from her dark knight’s penetrating stare to the jerk she should’ve never come out with tonight. She scanned Richard’s contorted face but could no longer deny the force drawing her to Brenden Jasper.

“Paige.” Brenden gestured to his outstretched hand.

The moment her fingers slid over his skin, her temperature spiked. When her hand slipped into his palm and his fingers closed around hers, a jolt of electricity shot up her spine. She knew she had craved his touch. She just didn’t know how much she had missed it, wanted it, until her hand was in his.

…

Two months ago, on New Year’s Eve, was the first time Brenden had experienced an electrical current surge through his body and alter the rhythm of his heartbeat. Tonight, with her hand in his, it was happening again. This time he didn’t fight it. He held on to the strange feeling because, in this moment, he felt capable of being more than the lethal force trained for combat behind enemy lines.

Brenden brought Paige under his protection. He had witnessed enough of the bastard in action this evening. As the pair cut along the side of the building and crossed the museum lawn, he continued ignoring the boyfriend’s empty threats yelled from behind them.

He glanced down; the woman he had dreamed about every night for the last two months was now at his side. Her floral scent had him imagining days and passion-filled nights in Fiji. Brown eyes enchanted him, and the feel of her small hand in his made him protective.

A calm spirit settled, taming the monster within, and for the first time, he wanted a woman to own his heart. No longer could he hide that she’d done a number on him on New Year’s. His boys knew, he knew, and he was done fighting it because of his duty. If he could protect this country, then surely he could protect the woman who occupied all manner of his thoughts.

“Hey!” the man’s voice came from behind. Brenden continued leading Paige up a city street away from the museum. “Where the fuck are you taking my girlfriend?”

Brenden stilled. If it weren’t for the gentle tug at his arm he would’ve stood his ground, hoping the vile creature following them was stupid enough to try his patience. Then he could justify laying the asshole out.

“Ex-girlfriend, Richard,” Paige tossed over her shoulder as they continued up the sidewalk.

Out of Brenden’s peripheral, he watched Richard work himself into a frenzy over Paige’s dismissal. The prick’s mistake came when he got bold, ran up on Paige, and snatched her by the arm.

Brenden pounced, twisting Richard’s arm behind his back until he pinned him to the ground on his knees. “That’s your third time tonight. Never touch her again or I’ll fucking kill you.” He shoved Richard with enough strength to make his hands collapse underneath him. A harsh groan tore from the man as his brown face bit the sidewalk. Brenden circled him, stalking with supreme authority. “Now, apologize to Paige for how you’ve treated her tonight.”

“Fuck you!” Richard growled, attempting to push up from the ground. But he couldn’t. Brenden had ensured his wrists were too weak to support his body weight. “Do you know who I am? I’ll ruin you.”

Brenden squatted down into the other man’s face, disregarding the grimace folding his lips. “Actually, I do. Question is, do I give a fuck? Now, again, and know this, dirty Armani is the same as clean Armani. It’s Armani, and I will stain my suit with your blood before you leave here without offering the lady an apology.”

“Brenden, I—it’s okay.”

The panic drowning her sweet voice couldn’t pull Brenden’s attention from the cretin squirming on the empty walkway. Maybe under normal circumstances, he would heed her warning and bow out of this cockfight. Except his instincts were screaming protection with hints of retribution after witnessing the way Richard had manhandled Paige.

The villainy tainting Brenden’s thoughts was amplified by the empty downtown streets and presence of his faithful six: Rod, Linc, Luke, Josh, Trent, and Carlos. Brenden’s men had become his shadows in the night. Despite their teasing him on becoming a pussy-whipped puppy, they were all too aware of how the night could end after Rod blurted Brenden’s trace request over drinks. Evidence of their concern was on full display as Brenden hovered over Richard, content with beating his ass into buzzard’s roadkill.

Brenden only wanted to make the man suffer until he looked away from Richard cowering on his knees to Paige. Her eyes were stretched wide as she held herself tight.

“Brenden?”

“I’m sorry, Paige,” Richard whimpered.

Brenden rose to his feet, eyes trained on Paige. He hadn’t meant to take it so far. Yet he knew before requesting the trace that he wanted her—and not just for sex. He had to apologize for the other day and thank her for helping his niece. After seeing the asshole date yank her around then shove her through the side door like some ragdoll, he lost it.

“Will he be okay?” she asked softly as Brenden casually strode to her.

A loud, pained groan came from the ground. Brenden looked down over his shoulder. He smirked, watching the motherfucker crawl away in his tailored slacks. “By morning, yes. But if that bastard ever disrespects you again…”

He pushed a strand of hair from her face. What he thought to be fear in her eyes was maybe something else. His head was so far gone from being around her, it was hard to determine what it might be. “Let me get you home.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” She gave him a small smile and then proceeded to follow his lead.

LED lights popped on as he proceeded to the passenger side of his sleek, obsidian BMW. He whipped around when the sound of her shoe heels meeting the cobblestone stopped.

“Paige.” He cocked his head to the car and then took another step before opening the passenger side door. “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I was just admiring your ride. I guessed you to be in the Escalade.” She shrugged, pointing back to a black SUV. “But yeah, this is you. Total bad boy flair.”

A smile landed on his face as she moved to him. Paige was beautiful, and the spirit she possessed was even more captivating. This woman was now his, and he would prove it sometime soon before kissing her goodnight. Hell, he already wanted to bite her juicy thighs exposed by the mini length of her dress.

Damn that dress! The way it hugged her curves, highlighted her taut stomach, and kissed her ass gave his dick sweet dreams the minute he’d found her walking into the museum.

He fell out of his temporary daydream when her hand brushed his. With the grace of a swan, she sank into the passenger seat, revealing more of her gorgeous legs as her delectable body melded into his black leather seat. He thanked his lucky damn stars for her date being a complete douche and that Katie had decided to come clean.

As Brenden strolled to the driver’s side, he gave his boys a covert signal to fall out. He was done being their jester for the night and no longer wanted them documenting his infatuation.

Once in the driver’s seat, he peeked over at Paige while starting the car engine. She appeared comfortable, sinking deeper into the seat before turning to look out the window. He was desperate to see those mesmerizing eyes and full lips, but he could bide his time. She couldn’t—wouldn’t run from him again.

A small smile curved his lips and he gave a gentle press to the gas. Companionable silence encompassed them. And while it was nice after the incident with her ex-date, his nerves were becoming edgy, maybe paranoid. He knew he had exposed a part of himself he usually kept hidden. The last thing he needed was for Paige to think of him as some monster. Especially when all he wanted was for her to feel safe with him.

He pressed a few buttons on the steering wheel and the strings of a guitar filled the car. A tenor saxophone followed and then he heard Paige hum. An unnatural heat flooded his body before his head whipped to her, seeing parted lips and closed eyes. She knew this song? It was hauntingly beautiful, passionate, and one of the most poignant pieces ever made.

“Gato Barbieri, ‘She Is Michelle,’” Paige said as her head rolled into the headrest. Her body then moved in sync with the rhythm.

“You like Gato?” he asked, not wanting to take his eyes off her.

“You like art?” She flashed him a teasing grin. “You must, to know of Denaiu… And, yes, I love Gato, just didn’t take you for the jazzy type.”

“And what type did you take me for?” He sucked in a breath, hoping she would turn and face him. In this moment, all he wanted was to look into her eyes and make her see there was light in him. He wasn’t always the trained spy or assassin who could turn off all emotion while operating under the cover of night.

His silent request was granted, along with the prettiest smile.

“Wellll, you were pretty badass in all black last time I saw you. And then of course tonight. Maybe Muse’s ‘Supermassive Black Hole.’”

He laughed until his shoulders shook. “I listen to them. Just most times I need calm.” He became serious. “So jazz works. Helps, rather.”

“Art is like that for me.” Her smile was small, almost pained now. “But this music,” she closed her eyes, “is so… So—”

“Sensual.”

She gave a breathy, “Yes.”

Brenden threw the car into park in the middle of the empty street. He blasted the radio volume and then exited his door, making his way to the passenger side. As he opened the door, he offered her his hand. The minute she latched onto him, he hauled her into his arms.

They spun around, her body fused to his as their fingers interlaced. He led with a gentle rock and she followed, burying her head in his chest. His hands traveled her body, relishing every curve he had committed to memory. There were no words to describe the way she felt, the way he felt holding her. He wanted to tell her he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Instead, he held her, enduring the electricity sparking between them, and let the music carry them away.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, dipping her back. His eyes followed the way the moonlight played on her skin, illuminating her eyes that now seemed to be the color of the finest cognac.

A toothy grin lit up her face, forcing him to smile back. “Is that why you brought another man to his knees? Hell-bent on preserving my honor,” she drawled in a sweet, southern voice.

“Perhaps,” he teased, leaning in closer to seal their dance with a kiss.

A honking horn derailed his plans. He grabbed Paige and jumped out of the speeding car’s way. For a moment, they were both dazed.

Her light, feminine giggles broke the awkward silence. Within seconds, they were in deep, full-bellied laughter while climbing back into the BMW. After a few minutes of navigating empty city streets, Brenden confessed his knowledge of Denaiu, and overall fascination with art, mainly abstract paintings.

He then turned the tables on Paige, listening as she expressed similar interests in jazz music and her love of art. The ease of their exchange turned a degree hotter when light conversation became a debate. Brenden argued Gato’s rendition of “Europa” was better than Santana’s. His argument stemmed from his bias of the tenor saxophone being superior to the guitar.

On the other side, Paige lobbied for Santana. He was the originator, the writer of “Europa,” and there was simply something nostalgic about hearing guitar strings strum the chords of the song together. In either case, it was obvious that music and art could be appreciated even more in each other’s company.

“How do you know where I live?” Paige sat straight up. She turned, wide-eyed, meeting his eyes.

Shit. He was off his game. This was what Rod meant. Brenden was already falling prey to the consuming effects of the beautiful woman next to him. “I have my ways.”

“So, you could’ve found me?” Her arms folded. “I thought about finding you, too. I guess two months didn’t have to pass.”

“You’re a complication. I shouldn’t even be here now.”

She blew an audible breath. “Then why are you?”

Brenden swallowed hard then glanced over. She had turned her entire body toward the door, shutting him out. He wouldn’t allow it. Not now that he was so close.

He went for the jugular, figuratively speaking, and reached across, his long, deft fingers tracing the skin of her thighs right at the hemline of her dress. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

“Me either.” She sighed and faced him.

…

A charge began pulsing between them, making the air so thick it was nearly impossible to breathe. Tendrils of attraction coiled around Paige, provoking lust and desire. Reaching out and seizing this moment would make all her wildest dreams come true. Because it would mean he had remembered her beyond that night. Just like she’d remembered his blue-gray eyes, powerfully talented hands, and tousled hair on a third story balcony.

She shied away and looked into her lap where her fingers fidgeted with the clasp of her clutch purse. Oh God, her attraction to him was undeniable, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his full lips pressed against hers. But what happened two months ago wasn’t going to happen again. She vowed to never make herself that girl again.

The car rolled over a familiar dip in the road on Willow Avenue. She stretched her neck to see if Bellamy had been a good best friend and remembered to leave her porch lights on, but before she could say anything, Brenden eased off the gas, reducing the speed of his car on the neighborhood street. The front end of the BMW cut into her drive as if it were coming home.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.” It wasn’t mean, just a firm declaration she made as she gripped the door handle and started chewing her bottom lip.

His gaze cut into her for a moment before he refocused his attention in front of him and continued inching into her driveway. He carefully pulled up behind her little pearl-colored Volvo S60.

A huffed laugh escaped him as he placed the car in park. “I think we both know that could easily happen again.”

Paige popped the door open and dashed up the carport before he could pull the keys from the ignition. She heard him call to her. She didn’t care. The best thing for her right now was to get inside the house and lock his arrogant ass out.

“Paige, wait, dammit!” He caught up to her and threw his hand over the keyhole. “Sex isn’t why I found you. You’re owed an apology. I said things in McPherson’s office out of pure frustration. My niece is all I have left of my sister. I’m sorry, Paige.”

Her heartbeat quickened, softened at his honest words. She knew all too well the frustration and heartache that accompanied mourning the loss of a sibling. Art therapy had helped tame the wildlings of her mind that had once made her a prisoner to thoughts of her deceased twin brother.

“Thank you for the apology…and for finding me tonight.”

From behind her, Paige felt him take the next step up to where she stood. His fresh, clean scent made her dream of the warm sun and the richness of the earth with a splash of sea air. He pressed his body against hers, the heat of his erection scorching her ass. She embraced the perfect feel of him against her and allowed her head to relax into the crook below his neck before she exhaled, planting her back into his chest. Again, she felt cherished. How had she denied herself of this man for the last two months?

“Will you forgive me?” His husky breath tickled her ear.

She whirled around in his arms and kissed him with the passion of a thousand nights. Her fingers found his tousled mane as he drove his tongue deeper into her mouth, making her taste and commit all that was him to memory. The spark they lit on New Year’s had become a wild flame. There was no taming it.

“Does that answer your question?” She smiled and pecked his lips once more.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Can I see you again?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Lieutenant Colonel Brenden Jasper?”

The most handsome smile lit up his face. “I am,” he chuckled then looked down to a little half watch, half phone tech device glowing on his wrist. “You, me, a date next Saturday.”

“I’d like that.” She pulled out her phone and exchanged contact information with him.

“Well, I won’t overstay my welcome, so good night.”

A second or two of silence sat between them as they stared into each other’s eyes. Paige had no clue how to handle the sexy-ass man on her doorstep who was intent on remaining her dark knight in shining armor. Should they kiss again? Should she invite him in? She settled on her home training.

“Good night Brenden.” She pecked his lips and then turned to enter her house.